


Uneasy Lies the Head that Wears the Crown

by Drake_temen



Category: The Rigel Black Chronicles - Fandom
Genre: Kind Of Graphic, Reads like an edgy 13 year old wrote it, ehh not really, much angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:33:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29053689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drake_temen/pseuds/Drake_temen
Summary: Leo Hurst is the King of Thieves, but what does that really mean?
Comments: 9
Kudos: 33
Collections: Rigel Black Chronicles Masquerade 2021





	Uneasy Lies the Head that Wears the Crown

Uneasy Lies the Head that Wears the Crown

The Lower Alleys are a beautiful place, Leo thought to himself as he left the Dancing Phoenix, the snow gently falling down around him only to evaporate on the charmed footpath beneath his feet. Each crack in the path told a story. Tales of struggle, of redemption, maybe even one of loss. Though in the Lower Alleys, most stories, the true ones at least, had a bit of all three. These begrimed streets had seen much turmoil and violence through the years. Ruthless Kings, Cruel Kings, or the worst of all, weak Kings were generally at fault for most of it. It’s almost funny, Leo mused to himself as he slowly made his way forward, barely noticing as gradually, his surroundings went from well-constructed houses made of poor materials, to shacks barely held together with magic and idealism. 

Magical is a curious word, especially in the wizarding world, where it seemingly applies to everything. To Leo, mere spells and potions weren’t truly magical. No, such activities were mundane for the average wizard. It was nights like these, where the snow smothers the rooftops and the stars gently brighten the streets. Where torchlights softly illuminate the populace, all dressed in a myriad of colours and patterns, as they shuffle towards the same destination that he thought were truly Magical. These were his people to protect. These were the butchers, the brewers and the bakers that through their benevolence and hard work, the alleys bought their livelihoods from. Everyone in the alleys contributed, no matter how young, old or able – they all pitched in, such was the way of the alleys. There was a beauty to the humble honour these men and women displayed, he supposed that was why, when individuals or groups whose ambition and greed outweighed their morals attempted to exploit the alleys, they were dealt with so very harshly. 

For Leo, it was hard to reconcile how he saw the alleys, with how some of his pureblood acquaintances did. Potion addicts, beggars and squibs at their best, and thieves, thugs and the worst kinds of truly Dark wizards at their worst. That was how they saw Leo’s subjects, his friends, his family. Merlin knows the alley’s hadn’t garnered such a reputation by accident. Many on the wrong side of the law saw the Alleys as an easy escape from Aurors and the like. It was Leo’s solemn duty to root them out. Words whispered by the ambitious were easily swallowed by the desperate and starving. Gangs would form, people would be spirited away for experiments or rituals and their society would crumble if the King didn’t keep the peace. That was the reasoning that a ruthless and cruel King made for a better life for the average person than a lazy one. While ‘The Rogue’ is the preferred term, one mustn’t forget that to take up the crown is to become The King of Thieves. To expect subservience , loyalty or even respect from such subjects would be folly. Yet still, Leo loved them all. How could he not, he saw their struggles, he saw their successes. Who would he be, the wealthy son of the Aldermaster, to deny them their ambitions, when he was given everything? The answer was simple; a hypocrite. 

Of course, they weren’t all thieves. Many were good and honourable folk no different, and more often than not better – than those born to wealth and splendour. Merlin, as the crowd grew thicker around him, Leo could name every single person by sight. He saw Sarah, a young self-taught alchemist who worked part time at James’s carpentry store, hugging Sophie, old Madison’s new ward. He couldn’t miss Mr. Stone strolling stoically by himself as usual, and he glimpsed Mrs. Levia casting glances at him as she hid behind her scarf, walking along a few paces back. Leo chuckled to himself wondering when Stone would ever realise her feelings, it’d been at least two years since he had first noticed her affections, but Stone certainly lived up to his name as far as his observational abilities went! Leo’s laughter dried up in his throat as he saw the Ebonhorn family out with their twin sons, not even nine years old yet walking along with the rest of the crowd. Nevertheless, his pace didn’t falter nor his resolve weaken. The Alleys were a hard place, and they made hard people. If he hesitated, he put them all at risk. 

Those twins, both brown of hair and blue of eyes. Their eyes drooping half-closed as they valiantly resisted the call of morpheus, dragging themselves along by their parents’ side. It was because of innocents like them, that he took up the crown. The crowd gathered together in hundreds here, but they all parted as he made his way through. The ocean of faces, some anxious, some excited, some sombre, all turned to face him as he passed by. The structure was entirely wood, hand-crafted in the alleys, without a single spell or rune as was tradition. The snow-drenched steps were soft beneath his feat, a comfort entirely unnoticed by Leo as he made his way up them. Idle conversations quietened, and murmurs were hushed. The platform stood a metre from the ground, with most of the crowd’s heads peeking over its base. As Leo stood atop it, preparing what few words he had to say, the crowd began to shift its focus back to the other individuals on the stage. 

Two men and a woman stood half a metre apart. The men had been involved in testing dangerous and illegal potions on beggars and the homeless. People they thought no one would miss. The ringleader and head brewer of the organisation had escaped Leo’s ambush on their lair, but these two would be enough to send a powerful message to anyone who tried to mimic their crimes. The woman was a Dark witch whose attempts at necromancy led to the slaughter of her neighbours by creatures of unspeakable evil. Luckily, her novice skills meant the creatures couldn’t sustain themselves for long, but the relatives of the five-person family they slaughtered certainly didn’t think themselves lucky. Each had a noose around their head, and magic-binding cuffs around their wrists. Leo hadn’t caught the woman himself, but he trusted those who had, and just in case, he had brewed the veritaserum to verify the stories himself. He had to be sure they were guilty, beyond any reasonable doubt. He’d never sleep again otherwise. He could barely sleep even knowing it.

“I, Lionel Hurst, the King of Thieves by right of combat, do hereby sentence Trint Averse, Henry Alder and Emily Cain to death. Mr Averse and Mr Alder were complicit in the crimes of non-consensual experimentation on tithe paying citizens, which led to one death, four maimings and twelve permanent maladies. Ms. Cain was involved in the practice of necromancy, which I must specify, is no crime in and of itself. However, her necromantic ritual did cause creatures of a most vile nature to be summoned, and due to improper precautions to bind the beings, they went on to kill five citizens of the alleys. Through the use of Veritaserum, I learned the accused did intend on using the creatures to assassinate a fellow citizen of the alleys who shall not be named. She is found guilty of five counts of manslaughter, and one count of conspiracy to commit murder. The laws outlined in the Thieves Code are clear and lenient, and as such, the punishments for those who break them must be unambiguous and severe. If the accused would like to have any last words or prayers, they may say them now” 

Leo finished, his fingernails digging into his skin as he clenched his fist. ‘This is necessary’ he told himself, over and over again. Uncertainty choked his every thought, as It always did at this point. Yet, He had brewed the truth serum himself and used his father’s phials of it to double check what he already had known. Their guilt was beyond doubt, and his role as King was clear.

Drowning the insidious doubts that plagued his mind he looked back towards the accused with a newfound resolve. Ms. Cain had taken up his offer for prayer, but the other two just looked out over the crowd grimly. They knew the risks of their crimes. All of them were alleyborn. They’d likely been to executions when they were the same age as the Ebonhorn twins. Perhaps they just didn’t care. Or, perhaps the gallows were just an ineffective tool of justice. He leaned towards the latter personally. But such personal thoughts were due consideration at a later date. The people wouldn’t accept him as their king if he left justice to the Aurors, and he wouldn’t accept it himself if he let his men shoulder the burden. 

Standing by the lever, just to the right of the prisoners, he looked them in the eyes – all of them varying shades of an all too familiar Green. What drove them to commit their crimes? His thoughts were absent of fury, merely curious. Ambition? Greed? Desperation? Weren’t these the driving factors that made the alleys so vibrant and lively? How could they twist a person so? He was self aware enough to realise he was stalling, so he did what he had to. He crushed his dissenting thoughts, and silenced his pleading heart.

With neither ceremony nor pomp. He pulled the lever. He sent them to their deaths. He watched the crowd let out a short involuntary gasp of surprise. He felt it keenly as a little bit of his soul broke off, a little bit of naivety and innocence. A little bit of his empathy, his love, his caring withered away, unable to reconcile themselves a part of a murderer perhaps. Was he a murderer? He was just doing as tradition demanded, as justice demanded. He was the Rogue, the King of Thieves, and a murderer. His clean, blood stained hands, clenched themselves into fists as he stared over his people. What did it matter what he was, provided he kept them safe?

It was times like these when he felt the weight of the crown more than ever. His shoulders ever upright threatening to slump under it. His head, despite all his strength, was forced low by it. Subservient. 

The masses began to depart, to their homes, their families, to their cherished few possessions and the warmth of the fireplace. The few who stayed long enough to notice Leo standing upon the gallows staring vacantly out in the night. They didn’t comment as the boy’s eyes glossed over, and the first tears began to stream down his cheek. Perhaps some would see weakness in a King openly shedding tears, the wounds of his battle bared to all. Naturally, anyone who thought so was within their right to challenge him. But the few who saw him standing there, mere metres away yet worlds apart, tipped their hats and left solemnly. 

He didn’t remember how long he stood there, nor when Rispah dragged him away. The world was ever-turning, and his leadership ever in demand. Time was a ruthless foe. It spared him no quarter to lick his wounds or think on his sins. He briefly wondered about the next morning, when he’d see Harriet again, how much harder it would be to look her in those beautiful green eyes. She knew he was the King, and she almost liked to think of herself as alleyborn. She even paid a tithe. Yet she was the half-blood heiress of a fortune beyond mere riches. One day she might have to truly understand what it meant to don the crown, to be a true citizen of the alleys. To feel the anguish, desperation and ruthlessness that accompanied every alleyborn from the day they could crawl. Leo prayed that day would never come.

**Author's Note:**

> If there was any part of this you liked, any! Thank Spiral-Galaxy for beta-ing it. Quite literally every good line, grammatically sound sentence is from her. I came up with the dodgy angsty idea, and wrote a fic that was edgy enough to make 13 year old me proud (reads like he wrote it anyhow) , but she made it a fic worth posting here. 
> 
> Anyway, cheers for slogging through it. It was a pleasure to be a part of such a great competition.


End file.
